


Of Goodbyes

by Natasha_Rostova



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21529177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Rostova/pseuds/Natasha_Rostova
Summary: Elrond teaches Estel about loss, and unearths his own grief in the process.
Relationships: None
Kudos: 19





	Of Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I know Estel was like. Two when his father died. But I aged him up to like 6ish because Drama. I just needed to write this okay???
> 
> And this is just a quick drabble. So.

“He’s coming back. He has to. Papa always comes back.” Estel sits on the balcony, bags packed by his side. “I’ve been here too long.” The night held a shadowy haze along Rivendell, muffling the gentle world Elrond had so carefully constructed. The careful world he had tried to wrap Estel in. And failed. 

“Estel you know that-“ Erestor stands still, voice firm and stoic, yet Estel has the fearlessness of childhood, and interrupts. 

“Why do you keep saying that! Why does everyone say he’s not coming home?” Estels’s voice cracks as he stares at Erestor, face red, and glazed eyes. The moonlight shines on the balcony, illuminating the cold night and restless expressions. Elrond sighs.

The week had not gone according to plan. Nothing had. All of this was wrong. She had left without a word, as if tradition was a substitute for an explanation. Estel has lost everything in a matter of hours. His Atar wasn’t coming home, and his Ammë left him to live with people he had only met once or twice. Everything was new and strange. 

And everything hurt. 

Elrond knew deep down that Estel was aware of the truth about his father. Perhaps that’s why he hurt so much. Perhaps that’s why he fought and cried. Because the truth hurts. Maybe he just didn’t know how to make the pain stop. 

“Erestor, I think that’ll be all.” Elrond sets a gentle hand on a Erestor’s shoulder. Erestor’s eyes narrow, yet he leaves anyway, footsteps light as he returns indoors.

Elrond returns his attention to Estel. 

Now that it was just the two of them there, underneath the moon and sitting in the quiet of the night, Elrond felt the loneliness of it all sink in. 

How alone Estel must feel.

“You know, a long time ago, I had someone I loved go away. Just like you.” Elrond’s heart aches even as he speaks, he didn’t even know who he was referring to. For so many he had loved, he lost. Maedhros and Maglor? His Ammë? Elros? Or dear Celebrian. 

He sits down on the floor next to Estel, an arms length away. Giving room to breathe. 

Room to grieve. 

Elrond continues.

“I just. I thought. For a long time, that maybe, just maybe, if I hoped and hoped, they’d come back.” Elrond looks at him softly. Deep breaths, Elrond thinks to himself. Deep breaths as the grief in Estel threatened to swallow him whole. Deep breaths as Elrond saw his own grief reflected in Estel’s eyes.

“Did they?” Estel’s is intent now, staring at Elrond. Yet something is hidden behind his gaze. Something sad.

Elrond shifts his gaze to the moonlight hills before responding.

“No.” Elrond takes a sharp breath. Tears burned at his eyes, a sharp sting that he felt in his very soul that blurred his vision. Elrond takes another deep breath before continuing. “And over time, I just got mad. Mad at everyone. I threw the blame wherever I could. Thinking that it was someone’s fault that they left.” His voice cracks, and he can’t bring himself to face Estel again.

“Who’s fault was it?” Estel’s voice breaks, and Elrond feels a pull in his chest. 

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Elrond’s voice is quiet, merely a whisper against the soft night winds.

They sit in silence for a moment. Staring at the mountains as if time was frozen. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. 

That was the worst part. 

The hardest lesson. 

Elrond only wishes Estel didn’t have to learn it so soon. He sniffles and manages a sad smile, swallowing his grief and turning back to Estel.

“You know Estel, I was so busy being mad, that I never had the chance to tell them how much I loved them,” He can feel his chest heave, and warm tears burn down his cheeks. “I never had a chance to say goodbye.” 

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” Estel stares at him, big brown eyes all lost and stoic at once. 

“I don't think anyone knows how.” Elrond wraps an arm around Estel. Whether the half hug was to comfort himself or Estel, he was unsure. Nevertheless, the boy sinks into Elrond’s side and sniffles. “I think we just have to try our best.” 

“Maybe we can try and say goodbye together.” Estel whispers, voice muffled against Elrond’s jacket.

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been rewatching Magnum P.I and my favorite episode is called “Going Home” it deals with grief and loss and moving on, and at the end there is this wonderful interaction and I was so inspired to write this fic about Elrond teaching Aragorn to say goodbye. The dialogue is adjusted slightly, but all the descriptive writing is my own. I felt as if they’re perfect for it.


End file.
